On Writing

Poem 3 – Maple

Maple

It seems to me that the
Nine-arm double-trunk
Maple outside my window
Loves the snow

Appreciates the sting
Of its honest cold
Respects the refreshing
Hand-holding flakes spread
Over its bark like a cardigan

The tree is a display
Of humility – the night sky’s
Gifts        received

2 thoughts on “Poem 3 – Maple

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